A Rose Blooms in Manhattan
by Lida Rose
Summary: Rating just to be safe. My first story! Three friends wreak havoc on the film Newsies by changing the storyline via (sort of) taking over the strike and leading alongside Jack. Story is way better than the summary, I promise. Please R&R!
1. Disclaimer and Prologue

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Newsies, Disney does.  I do not own any of the characters in this story except for myself(Lida Rose), Reb, Dodger, Mrs. Nolan, Mr. Hauptman, and any other characters I may choose to add later (I will put a star beside their name).  All non-Disney male newsies are owned by members of the NML, and all female newsies either own themselves or belong to a member of the NML.  Also, I do not own or anything that I _obviously did not_ write, if you know that I didn't write it, so do I!  I am not taking credit for anything except this story and the characters I have listed above.  NOW, ON WITH THE FIC!  

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**I am writing this story from my POV.  My thoughts are in _italics _Also, I think that written dialogue can be cumbersome sometimes, so if I'm trying to write a conversation with several people, I will put their name, a dash(-), and whatever they said, so that the dialogue can flow the way I think it should.  ~Here we go~**

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          October 31, 9 PM Eastern Standard Time, En route to Jazzy's we went through the park.  A funny thing happened in the dark…


	2. Ch 1 A Funny Thing

          Halloween 2003- We were on our way to Jazz's house after trick-or-treating as newsies.  We were tired of walking so we decided to take a shortcut through the park.  Cracker skipped ahead of Jazz and I, swinging her pillowcase full of candy and shopping money, "Come on! You two can't be that tired."

          "We're not, Jazz said, "We just don't feel like skipping when we're like, thirty seconds from home."

          'You guys are no fun.  The faster we get there, the sooner we can-"

          "You three bettah get outta here, da Delanceys are comin'," a boy interrupted as he ran past us, "Dey seem like dey's lookin' for a fight."

          We all looked at each other, jaws dropped.  "It's another Newsies fan!  Let's follow him," Jazz yelled as she started chasing him.  Cracker and I ran after and we all finally caught up to him.  

          "Hey," I called when he came into view, "Wait up!"  He stopped and waited for us.  _He looks one HELL of a lot like Aaron Lohr.  _"Wow, you're _Aaron!_ a newsie." Jazz, Cracker, and I looked at each other.  _Oh my god, that's Mush!  We're in Newsies!_

          He eyed us for a second, "Yeah," he smiled and held out his right hand, "I'm Mush.  I'm sorry.  I thought you three was fellas when I went by."  

          I shook his hand, "That's ok.  Most girls don't run around dressed like this.  I'm Lida Rose.  This is Cracker Jacks and Rouge Jazz"

          "You can call me Cracker, or Jacks, it doesn't matter."

          "And you can call me Jazz"

          He smiled again, "Pleased ta meet ya.  You goils ain't from around here are ya?"

          H_ere's your chance to test Tocket's drama class.  _"No, we're from Pennsylvania," I hesitated, "We just got here."

          "So where ya stayin'? I'll walk ya there."

          _Think fast.  Think fast.  _"We haven't really got around to looking yet."  _You dumbass, you're turning into a Mary Sue already.  You might as well have said, 'I don't have anywhere to go, please put your big, strong, newsie arms around me and take me to the lodging house with you'.  Good one, Lida.  _"I mean, we were on our way to find a place just now."__

          "Well, come on, I know a place you can go.  It ain't far," He took a few steps and looked back at us, "It ain't safe for goils ta be out afta dark," he looked at me and smiled again, "even if dey are done up like fellas."  We followed him out of Central Park and onto the street.  The four of us talked, and when Mush asked what we were doing in the city by ourselves, Cracker, Jazz, and I made up most of our life's story right there on the spot.  Actually, **I** made up most of our life's story, those two just added a 'yeah' or 'uh huh' every now and then.  I pretty much told him the story on my character profile, with a few little changes.  I told him that my father, a farmer, owed money to another farmer who had a dumb, ugly son that couldn't find a woman.  Instead of money, he offered me to marry the son.  I didn't want to, and my father said he was going to make me do it, so I decided to run away.  Then I said that Jazz and Cracker saw me walking into the train station and refused to let me go without them, so we stole clothes from Cracker's brother, she grabbed some money, and we got on the train.  When I finished he nodded and said, "Dat's pretty brave of ya."  _Damn, I'm good.  I'm sorry I lied to him, but damn, I'm good.  _Mush stopped,"Well, here we are.  See ya 'round," He tipped his hat and ran in the direction we'd just come from.  We all called thank you as he rounded the corner.

          The building he took us to was brick, old and unfriendly looking.  Every light in the upstairs was on, and there was a single light downstairs in the front to the left.  I looked up at the sign above the door.  It read: "Nolan's Lodging House for Girls. est. 1890"

Read and Review!  But remember that it's my first time, so please be gentle!


	3. Ch 2 Old Coins and Penny Candy

          "Shall we?" Jazz motioned towards the door and started up the steps.  We walked in the open door and up to the large desk next to a huge wooden staircase.  A middle-aged woman with graying hair entered from the room to the left.  

          "Can I help you?" She looked at us suspiciously.  Then her eyes set on my chest, and her expression softened, "You girls need a place to sleep?"

          "Yes, please," Jazz smiled and tried to look as ladylike as possible in her cut-offs and cabby hat.  

          "All the bunks are full; I can only offer you one double bed in the sick room upstairs."

          "We'll take it, ma'am.  Thank you."

          "That will be two cents each." We looked at each other.  _Will CJ and I still have our money?  Is it any good?_  Cracker and I started rooting though our pillowcases.  _Were the hell'd all this penny candy come from?_ I found some change at the bottom and looked at it.  Three dimes, a quarter, and two pennies, all dated in the 1890s.  Apparently Cracker noticed the same thing, because when I looked up she was staring wide eyed into the palm of her hand.  

          I laid the dimes on the desk in front of the woman.  "This should do for a few days, right?"

          "Yes," she answered curtly and picked them up, "five days.  Follow me."  She led us up the stairs and through the bunkroom and bathroom.  Girls paused to watch us walk by.  _We must be a sight, coming in after dark dressed like guys._ We ended up in a tiny, two windowed room with a dry sink.  "Curfew is at ten every night, lights out at ten-thirty; I don't like to be bothered after then.  And you need to be out of here by eight every morning unless you're sick.  I'm Mrs. Nolan.  Goodnight, ladies."  She turned and left.  As soon as she was downstairs girls started creeping into the bathroom.  A few were getting ready for bed, but most were gawking through the doorway at us.  

          Finally a short, stocky, brunette stepped forward.  "Hi, I'm Ducky.  Welcome ta da lodgin' house."  She looked around at the other girls, "Come on, they ain't gonna bite ya."  They began to trickle into the room, still staring.  After initial introductions, Ducky asked, "So why're you tree here, an' why're ya dressed like guys?"  We told her the story that I had told Mush, and when we had finished she said, "Well, do ya still have your skirts?"

          I lied, "No, we left them on the train."  _Gettin' good at this._

"It ain't proper for no goil ta be runnin' 'round in trousers.  You look about my size.  I got an extra skirt ya can borrow.  Ladies, we gotta get dese goils in proper clothes.  If ya got any extra stuff, go get it."  Moments later girls with random clothing filled the room.  Ducky held a gray wool skirt to my waist.  "Yep, dat'll fit," she stood back as I held it in place, "Almost poifect."  Other girls held out clothes that they thought might fit us.  Trolley gave Jazz a dark brown skirt, and Clips found a light blue blouse in her trunk that fit her perfectly.  Spitball let Cracker borrow a really cute pink and white dress.  Tooey lent me a white blouse that fit a little tightly and showed off my large bosoms, but it wasn't uncomfortable, so I took it.  We thanked them, quickly changed back into our costumes, and took the grand tour of the upstairs.  

          Mrs. Nolan called lights out, and the girls headed to their bunks.  Before she left I asked Riley what paper we sold for.  She turned, "Da Journal.  It's right up 'round da corner."

          "Um…Where's The World," Cracker tried to sound casual, "I mean, we can pick what we sell can't we?" 

          "Sure.  Little sells Da Sun, an' Kane sells Da Post ev'ry now an' 'en.  World building's 'bout a block ta da left.  Bettah watch yaselves down there, bunch of handsome fellas workin' for Da World."  She smiled and winked before entering the bunkroom.  

          "Hey Riley," I called just as she turned out of sight, "what's today's date?"

          "July seventeenth."

          "Ninety-nine?"

          "Course, what other year would it be?"  She chuckled and mumbled something to herself as she climbed into her bunk.  

          I took a good look at Jazz and Cracker for the first time since we'd been out all night.  Their clothes seemed different.  They **were** different.  They looked the same, but heavier, more worn.  I looked down at my own blue pants and plaid shirt.  They were heavy now, like wool.  My gray elastic suspenders had been replaced by real button on suspenders.  A thick button up undershirt was where my white cotton shirt had been.  Cracker and Jazz were studying their wardrobes now, too.  "Hey," Jazz sounded angry as she examined her hat, "what the hell happened to my hat?  It's wool!"

          "Dude, almost all our clothes are wool.  I think something really weird happened to us tonight."

          "Really, Lida?  I guess Mush showing up in the middle of Talleyrand Park wasn't much of a clue to that."

          "Whoa, someone's a **bit** touchy over her hat."

          "I loved that hat, dammit."

_          Change the subject before she starts whining.  _"Hey, I still have my marbles!"  I untied the little brown pouch hanging from my belt loop and emptied the marbles onto the bed, "Looks like they're all here, how about you two?"  Jazz and Cracker untied their marbles, worn in a fashion similar to mine, and dumped them onto the bed.

          "All here."

          "Yeah," Cracker held up her favorite shooter, "mine too, Rose."  She put them back into her sock pouch and laid it on the dry sink.  She started to undress.

          "Wow, Jacks, you've got some hot undies goin' on there."  Cracker was standing in the middle of the room in frilly white knickers.  _How did we not notice this stuff before?_

"Cool!  Do you guys have 'em, too?"  Jazz and I speedily undressed and saw the same white unmentionables that Cracker was wearing.  _This is the most awesome dream I've ever had!_

          "Wonder why we didn't notice these before."

          "We were too busy trying stuff on to notice," Jazz was examining herself as best she could without a mirror.  "How's the money situation?"

          "Kinda weird," I reached for my pillowcase and dumped it onto the bed, "It's dated from the 1890s.  And look at all this penny candy."  Every piece of my Halloween candy, all the Snickers and peanut butter cups, had turned into penny candy and lollipops.  I counted my money.  "Still got a hundred and some dollars.  At least fifteen of it's in change, though."

          "I still have my fifty, but about five is pennies, nickels and dimes.  Couple quarters," Cracker sorted the change, "Five pennies, thirteen dimes, twenty-seven nickels, and a lot of pennies…" _Sometimes I could swear she has OCD.  _"Eighty-nine pennies."  _Uh huh, OCD._

          "Let's just go to bed, I'm really tired."

          "Aren't you going to count that change?"

          "No, I know how much is there."

          "How?"

          "My paycheck was for $120.37.  I didn't spend any of it, and there's a hundred and five in bills.  Ergo, $15.37 is there in change."

          "$15.07, you gave Mrs. Nolan thirty cents."

          _OCD!  _"Yes, $15.07.  I'm tired, I'm getting in that bed, and I'm going to sleep."

          "Me, too," Jazz yawned and climbed in bed.  I got in beside her, and Cracker took the spot on my other side.  The city lay quiet outside the windows.  _All the times I've been in New York, and this is the first I've ever heard it quiet.  Only in Dreamland.  _I heard Cracker's breaths deepen and knew she was asleep.  Jazz stirred a little, whispered something about chocolate milk, and fell into deepening breaths as well.  I drifted off to sleep, pondering over old coins and penny candy.  

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What will happen in the morning?  Was it all a dream??  Will we ever see Mush again???    Keep reading to find out!

Thanks so much for reading!  Please Review!

Sorry, no shout outs, I think they're obnoxious.  Maybe as I write more.  


	4. Ch 3 I Wanna Be a Newsie!

I felt Jazz roll out of bed. I heard her bare feet hit the pineboard floor, and I heard her gasp just before she shook me awake. "Lida! Lida, wake up!"

"No," I groggily pulled the covers up over my head, "Let me sleep, Jazz."

"Dammit, look," she ripped the covers off of the bed. Cracker woke up enough to reach for the sheet and cover herself again. I tried to do the same. "LIDA!"

"Ugh, what?" I sat up and started to give her a death stare. I stopped when I realized that we weren't in Jazz's room. _We're still in the lodging house._

The look on my face must have told her what I was thinking, "Yeah, still here. I thought I was dreaming."

"Me, too," I tried to look around, but my eyes were still adjusting to the bright sunlight streaming in through the curtainless windows, "Best dream I ever had."

"Punch me."

I blinked and looked at her for a moment, "Don't you mean 'pinch'?"

She shook her head, "No. Punch me. Pinching's too cliché."

I drew back my fist, remembered the time I gave her a bloody nose in elementary school, and thought better of it, "I don't wanna. Do something to CJ." Cracker was always the victim of our practical jokes and experiments. I saw no reason to end that then.

Jazz nodded and suppressed a giggle as she climbed over me and pushed Cracker. She hit the floor with a resounding thud. "OW! What was that for," she sat up, but didn't seem to notice where we were. Either that or she didn't care.

"Jazz was seeing if one of us was dreaming."

"Well how does pushing me out of bed test whether or not one of you two is dreaming?"

Jazz and I looked at each other. We managed to hold straight faces for two seconds before we burst out laughing, "I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time." Cracker scowled at us for a moment, and then looked around the room. She grinned widely.

"No dream," she took another glance, "I hoped this was real. Isn't it awesome?"

"Yeah, except we don't know where we are, how we got here, or how to get back."

Jazz stood silently for a moment. Then she said, "You're right. But I don't really care. All I know is that we're in Newsies, and I wanna be a newsie."

"I suppose there isn't anything else we can do. Let's get ready and get to The World." We started putting on the skirts and such that Ducky and the girls had given us the night before. The girls were getting up and making their way to the bathroom now, and their soft voices seeped through the door. Trolley was telling another girl how to make big tips, and Tooey grumbled something about lousy headlines. _Today's the eighteenth. _"Hey," Jazz and Cracker froze and looked at me, "the strike starts tomorrow."

"Ooh! Do you think they'll really sing about it?"

I shrugged, "I dunno, maybe. It would be awesome if they did, though."

"Cool! Let's be newsies so we can strike tomorrow."

I smiled, "And sing?" _She's the only person I know who can be childish and not be annoying._

"Yeah," she continued to button her blouse, and I helped Cracker with her dress.

"If the strike starts tomorrow, does that mean they're singing Carryin' the Banner right now?"

Cracker beamed, "Oh that'd be so awesome to see! We could even watch Jack mess with the Delanceys."

"And maybe one of us is the girl Mush met last night," Jazz giggled and looked at me, "Eh, Lida?"

"Yeah, you two sure did smile a lot-"

"At each other-"

"And he even tipped his hat when he left."

"So," I was unsuccessfully trying to fix my hair and didn't notice them staring at me, "he was just being polite."

"Polite or not, you two were making eyes," Jazz smiled cheesily and batted her eyes at me. "Having trouble?" I still couldn't get my hair up. _I'm not much good at doing girly things anyway, and you teasing me about Mush isn't helping matters any._

"Here," Cracker came over and ran her fingers through my hair like a brush, "I'll part it and you can just leave it down." She ran her fingers back through my hair and made a decent part down the middle, "There," she twirled the end of my hair around her finger, "I wish I had pretty auburn hair like yours." She reached for her own straight black hair and looked at it dismally, "I hate my hair. I can't do anything with it." Her dark Puerto Rican eyes focused the hair for a moment, "Pelo negro estupido."

I turned and touched her hair, "Que bonito_. _I wish I was ethnic."

She smiled half-heartedly and directed her gaze back to my long, slightly curling hair and sighed, "If you leave it like that it'll get tangled. Put this in it," she undid the bow on the bodice of her dress and handed it to me. I pulled the front and top of my hair back and tied the white ribbon into a bow around it. "Ready," Cracker reached for the door.

I took a few steps and remembered that we would need to buy papers. "Money," I grabbed a handful of change out of my pillowcase, "I'll get our papers."

"No," Cracker reached into her pillowcase, "you paid for the room last night. I'll get our papers."

"Ok, but we need to get our own clothes. Do you guys wanna go tonight?"

"Sure," she tugged at her sleeve, "I won't feel so bad about borrowing this stuff if we give it back right away."

"Um, I don't have any money," Jazz stood by the door with a slighlty concerned look on her face, "It was all at my house."

"Rose and I'll spot ya. It's not like we don't have enough."

"Are you sure? Because I don't want you to feel like you have to give me money."

"Why not," I handed her a dollar bill, "You'd help us out if we were stranded in 1899 without any money, wouldn't you?

Jazz's expression brightened, "Of course I would! Let's go see us some dancing newsboys!"

"Okey-doke. I'm taking my marbles," I tied the little brown pouch around the black sash/belt thing that Ducky gave me with her skirt. It felt funny, and I'm sure it looked funny, too, but I figured it wouldn't be so funny if I had to wallop somebody with them, and I insisted that Jazz and Cracker take theirs, too. After our marbles were secure, Cracker and I each took a wad of money from our sacks and headed out the door.

We met Puck and Riley on the steps, and walked to the corner with them. They assured us that we were heading in the right direction and offered to come along and show us the ropes. We told them that we had a pretty good idea of what we were doing, and that, if we had to, we could ask a newsie for help. They wished us luck and went on their way. This was it, we were on our own, looking for The World's distribution center, and hoping that there would still be a few lingering newsboys nearby.

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Horace Greeley stood out in the center of the street. Cracker saw the statue first and ran to it. After marveling at Mr. Greeley for a few moments, we turned toward the distribution center. There it was, in all its glory, with the gate standing open and a few straggling newsies getting their morning papers. I glanced sideways at Jazz, she nodded, and we all marched silently up the ramp to wait in the paper line. Cracker handed me her money, "You do it. I'm too nervous."

"Of what," I held the money out to her, "Just give Weasel the money and tell him how many papers we want."

She pushed my hand back towards me, "But he's so mean, and I don't know how many to get."

"Well, there's three of us, and we've never sold papers before so let's start small," I was still holding the money out for her to take. She looked at me as if I were asking her to run into a burning building for no reason, "Ok, I'll do it. How many do we want?"

"Let's get a hundred and see how many we sell," Jazz jumped up and down like a little kid, "I bet I can sell more than you."

"Coming from the girl with no money. Let's just get, like, twenty apiece. How's that?"

"NEXT," Weasel bellowed. I stepped forward. He looked at me and, without softening his tone, asked, "How many?" I turned back to Jazz and Cracker, who both nodded and waved for me to turn around. "Come on, Girly, I ain't got all day."

"Sixty please," I laid thirty cents on the counter.

Weasel glowered at me and turned to Morris, "Sixty for da lady." Morris counted out sixty-two papers and slammed them onto the counter. He winked at me as the girls stepped forward to divide them. _God, he's disgusting._

"Heya, Sweet Face. Ain't seen ya 'round here before," Oscar sidled up to the window, grinning.

"Nothing sweet here for you," all three of us girls hissed at him simultaneously. He jumped back. If looks could kill, he'd have been dead five times over. A couple of boys in line behind us snickered. Oscar, Morris, and Weasel all shot them equally deadly stares. The boys straightened their line and stood quietly, trying to suppress their smiles. Jazz quickly picked up twenty of the papers and handed them to me. She divided the remaining papers in half and handed a stack to Cracker. Then she abruptly went down the steps and led us out onto the street. I stopped her just outside the gate.

"What was that about just now?"

She looked back, "I dunno. I just didn't want to make any more of a scene."

Cracker laughed, "We sure told them didn't we?" She elbowed Jazz in the side, "Too bad the newsies weren't there to see it. We'd have been automatically initiated."

"Yeah," her expression brightened, "I wish they'd have been there, that was classic."

"Let's check the headlines," I handed Cracker my papers and examined the front page. Jazz headed for Horace Greeley and sat down. Cracker and I joined her and began browsing through the morning World. I chuckled, "Look here: 'Baby Born with Two Heads'"

Jazz started to giggle, "Must be from Brooklyn."

Cracker smacked Jazz's arm, "You are such a dork!"

"Actually, it is from Brooklyn," I leaned over to Cracker and pointed to the article, "See? '…a child born to Mrs. John Neely of Williamsburg...' I went there last time I was in the city.

"Ha! How ya like them apples," Jazz nudged Cracker triumphantly. We all started to laugh.

"Lida Rose," a voice called from across the street. We looked up and saw Mush running in our direction, followed by Blink. They removed their hats and smiled as they got closer. We stood up and brushed ourselves off. "Nice ta see ya again," Mush dropped his papers and looked us over, "Y'all look much bettah in ladies clothes." We stood in a kind of semi-awkward silence for a few seconds until he motioned towards Blink, "Dis is Kid Blink, but most folks just call 'im Blink." Blink smiled and nodded. Mush continued, "An, dis is Lida Rose, an'..." he stopped and thought for a moment, "Jazz…an'…Crackah Jacks."

Blink held out his hand, "Ladies." We all shook hands. He turned to Mush, "Ready?"

"Yeah," they shouldered their papers and started to leave. Mush stopped and turned back, "Say, you goils wanna come wit us? We'll show ya da ropes."

Jazz nudged me. "Sure," I smiled and grabbed my papers. Jazz and Cracker hurried ahead with Blink, practically leaving me alone with Mush. "Any good headlines," I scanned the front page. The only thing that stood out was 'Trolley Strike Drags on for Third Week'. _Some headline._

"No, not really," he glanced over at Blink, who was busy looking for a headline as well. "But ya always gotta remembah," he looked up at me and shook his finger, "Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes." He opened up the paper and started walking. "Here," he stopped and showed me the article about a fire on Ellis Island, "'Trash Fire Near Immigration Building Terrifies Seagulls.' Now dat ain't a very good headline, but if ya change it up a little, it works real good. What can ya say instead?"

_Figures, he gives me an easy one first. Oh well, here goes. _I took a few steps away from him, cleared my throat and held up a paper, "Ellis Island in flames! Thousands flee in panic!" Several men ran up and bought papers. I continued, "Big conflagration on Ellis Island! Read the story!" I walked back to Mush, "How was that?"

"Not bad," he smiled and turned to another page, "How 'bout dis one?"

The headline read: 'Midtown Woman Reports Stolen Laundry'. The article continued with a short story about someone stealing two pairs of stockings, a pair of men's suspenders, and a pair of small boy's pants from the rooftop of an apartment building. _That's a bit strange._ I stepped away from him again and took a deep breath, "Family robbed in broad daylight. Personal items lost to crooks!" People rushed to buy my last nine papers. One man even gave me a four cent tip. _Selling papes rocks. _

Mush strode over to where I was standing. "You'se a natural. I never seen a foist timah sell 'em dat quick. I just might have ta give ya some of my papes ta get rid of."

"Thanks," I held out my arms, "If you want some help, I'd be glad to."

He shook his head, "Nah, I'll do alright. Blink an' me still got a lot ta show you three anyways."

Blink, Jazz, and Cracker joined us. They were all almost out of papers. Apparently Blink didn't mind having girls do his work for him, because Jazz and Cracker each handed him money once they had stopped and were standing with us. We talked for a little while and decided to head for Central Park. Mush hollered headlines as we went, and soon he was down to his last few papers. Blink wandered off with a girl somewhere near 8th Avenue, so the four of us went on without him and spent the rest of the morning in the park. Mush gave us advice on how to sell certain headlines (lie) and what to do when you don't have change (run like hell). Blink showed up again a little past noon, and we made our way back to the Bowery for the evening papers.

Back at the distribution center Mush and Blink introduced us to the rest of the guys. One of the younger newsies, Marbles, had been there that morning and told everyone about the Delancey incident. Crutchy howled, "If Jack had seen dat he'd a kissed ya for it. Too bad we all missed it." Dutchy and Bumlets agreed with him, and Specs added that he hoped something like it would happen again.

The circulation bell rang. We went through the gates like a herd of cattle and lined up on the ramp. "No Race yet," Jazz whispered disappointedly, "I really wanted to see Race."

"We'll meet him tomorrow," Cracker put her arm around her shoulder, "He went to the tracks today, remember?"

"Yeah, but I really wanted to see Race."

"Itey's here. He's your favorite, isn't he?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "But I really wanted to see Race. He'd have thought that was funny, too."

"Well hello, ladies," Weasel glared at us from behind the barred window, "How many for you this fine afternoon?"

I laid a dime on the counter, "Twenty." Morris set them up for me and looked at Jazz. She laid a dime on the counter, as did Cracker. The Weasel-Delancey trio silently set out their papers. As soon as we were clear of the stairs, Weasel bellowed to move the line along and resumed the usual berating of newsboys that we all know him for.

Mush was waiting outside the gate. "I'm goin' ta da fact'ry district. Everybody'll be gettin' off soon. Ya wanna come?"

"Um, sure, but we have to be back by five. We have some things to take care of."

"We should be done by then. I don't got many papes anyways."

Crutchy came out of the distribution center with Itey, "You goils wanna come wit us dis afternoon? We'll show ya how it's really done." He jabbed Mush's arm and smiled.

"Well, we were going to go with Mush," Cracker hesitated, "But maybe tomorrow we can go together."

"No, you goils go wit dem," Mush waved his hand at Itey and Crutchy, "I had ya ta myself almost all day."

"We can split up," Cracker thought for a moment, "I mean, there's three of you and three of us, we can all go with you."

"Yeah," Jazz interjected, "Lida can go with Mush, Jacks can sell with Crutchy, and I'll go with Itey. That way we'll all get to know each other."

I rolled my eyes_. Of course I end up with Mush and she gets Itey. _"We still need to be back here at five."

"Done."

"Done."

"Works for me."

"Ok. Let's go."

I turned to Mush. "So?"

He grinned, "Poifect."

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Mush and I headed back into the Bowery after an hour of selling papers and another roaming the East Side of Manhattan. He walked a little ahead of me, acting as a tour guide, and every now and then he'd stop and point out some small oddity or tell a story.

Itey and Jazz met us near Broome Street. He hollered and waved when he saw us, "What're ya doin'? Ya wanna go see a show?"

"Sure. Ya wanna, Lida?"

"Ok. Where are we going?"

"Irving Hall, right down da street."

We continued down Broome Street and entered Irving Hall. The man at the door asked us each for a nickel and pointed us in the direction of the balcony. We found some seats and waited for the show to start. The first act was a ventriloquist, followed by a comedy act, and then a guy with a guitar came out and sang. "Let's get outta here. You goils should be meetin' Crackah soon." Mush stood and offered me his arm. Just before we exited the balcony I heard the emcee introduce Medda. Jazz heard him too, and we both turned in time to see her step onstage in that purple dress.

When we got back to Horace Greeley, Crutchy and Cracker were already waiting for us. We told the guys goodnight and thanked them for showing us the ropes before we turned to leave. "Wait," Itey grabbed Jazz's wrist, "Can I talk to ya real quick?" They went far enough away that we couldn't hear what they were saying but, when they kissed, we got the general idea.

Jazz came back over to where Cracker and I were standing. Cracker grinned at her, "What was that? You know a guy for three hours and you're kissing him already?" She sighed, "Jazz, Jazz, Jazz."

Jazz blushed slightly, "He's really sweet. And it's not like I don't know him, I've seen the movie, like, a thousand times."

"Seeing the movie has nothing to do with knowing him. He's not in the movie enough to get to know him."

"Yeah, but he's really sweet. And he's a Disney character, so it's not like he'll be evil or anything."

"Whatever, let's just clarify the fact that you don't know him and I think you're crazy."

"Fine." Jazz pushed past us, "Can we go now?" She quickly turned the corner.

Cracker darted after her, "Come on, Rose! We'll lose her."

_ She's waiting for us just out of sight. _I looked over at the guys. Mush and Crutchy were patting Itey on the back and messing with his hat. _That's so cute, they're celebrating. _Mush saw me and smiled. I smiled back before rounding the corner and finding Jazz and Cracker waiting. "Shall we?" They nodded and we headed out in search of clothing.

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Thank you ever so much for reading chapter 3! I know it was long and took forever for me to put out, but wasn't it worth it? (total silence, save for a few crickets chirping) Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. (a single cough joins the crickets) I'm sorry! I was SO busy that I just didn't have time to work on it. You loved it, I know you know you know you did. You just don't want to admit it…but do it anyway! Send me a review!

Please R&R! Getting your reviews makes me very very happy! Almost as happy as meeting Aaron…_almost._

Just remember not to send any flames, I don't mind constructive criticism, but flames are like missing the bus home and having to wait three hours for the next one. It sucks.

SOs to all who sent reviews for the last chappy! I "heart" you!


	5. Ch 4 Make Like a Newsie an' Strike!

Yay! Lida's finally posted another chapter! Sorry I've been slacking, readers, but senior year's a big, ugly, bitch!

Note: A good bit of this chapter is dialogue from the movie, therefore, I did not say who said what, I figured y'all would know the lines anyway.

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Sneaks poked her head through the door to make sure we were up. "Saaaay," she smiled, "Dem clothes look pretty sharp." She opened the door wider and called, "Hey, Ladies, dese goils got demselves some good lookin' rags." I smiled and smoothed my new mulberry skirt as Tooey, Trolley, and Boxie joined her at the door.

Ducky cut through the bunch, "Lemme see ya." Jazz, Cracker, and I quickly lined up, shoulder to shoulder. She paced back and forth in front of us, much like a drill sergeant, inspecting our new attire. She tugged the collar of Jazz's pink blouse and checked the hem of her long black skirt. She did the same to Cracker's dark green skirt and white blouse, nodding her approval. My white blouse received a few tugs, and when she examined my hem, she noticed my new white silk stockings. "These are nice."

"Thanks, I always wanted a pair."

"I'm impressed." Mrs. Nolan called ten 'til eight from the foot of the stairs. "Bettah move out, goils," Ducky grinned and winked as she turned and headed out of the bunkroom.

"Ready?" Jazz rooted through her marble bag for yesterday's earnings, "Let's sell some papes."

"Not quite," Cracker was still lacing up her boots. She hurriedly brushed her hair. While she was doing that, I brushed my teeth and dabbed a little lavender water on my neck. I put down the bottle and surveyed the room filled with our newly acquired belongings. _The amount of money we spent last night…_ "Ok. I'm good to go."

"Me too," I grabbed a handful of change and led them out the door.

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Mush and Itey were waiting outside for us. Puck, Riley, and Tooey saw us all together and giggled when they walked by. _We'll hear about this tonight. _Cracker, Mush and I chatted while Jazz and Itey strolled ahead of us, arm in arm, glancing back every now and then to make sure we weren't listening in on them. We ran into Jack, David and Les about two blocks away. Mush introduced us and Jack grinned.

"Call me Cowboy. So you three's da goils put ol' Oscar in his place," he shook his head and chuckled, "Wish I'd seen it. I ain't evah been around when a goil's put 'im down."

The eight of us arrived at the distribution center together. David read the huge chalkboard outside the gates, "'Bloody Beatings In Trolley Strike'. That's a good one, just like you said, Jack."

"Yeah, think I'm gonna buy a hundred an' fifty today. How 'bout it, Dave, ya gonna get more'n twenty?"

"Sure. Maybe I'll try fifty."

Les tugged excitedly on his brother's sleeve, "We could sell way more than fifty! Let's buy a hundred." We entered the gates and saw all the newsies standing in groups talking amongst themselves.

"Hold on there, kid," Jack scanned the crowd, "Don't look like nobody's buyin' any papes. Hey fellas, what's goin' on? Why ain't ya got no papes?"

"Dey jacked up da price," Blink huffed disgustedly, "Ya hear dat, Jack? Ten cents a hundred!" Jack licked his lips and took in the information. Mush went and talked to Crutchy, while Itey, David, and Les joined the other newsboys. Jazz, Cracker, and I stood next to Jack. "Ya know, it's bad enough we gotta eat what we don't sell. Now dey jacked up da price! Can you belie' dat?" All through Blink's little rant, Oscar stood in the window behind him, flailing his arms and making faces. It seemed like only us girls noticed, and Jazz finally had enough. She picked up a rock and threw it as hard as she could. It just missed his head and hit the wood frame to his left. He scowled and shut the window as Jack began to snicker. None of the other newsies noticed.

"This'll bust me. I'm barely makin' a livin' right now."

"I'll be back sleepin' on the streets."

"It don't make no sense," Mush looked at Crutchy and walked over to me. He leaned his arm on my shoulder and continued, "I mean, all the money Pulitzer's makin'- why would he gouge us?" I shrugged. _Stingy jackass._

"'Cause he's a tightwad, dat's why."

"So why da jack up, Weasel?"

"Why not? It's a nice day." Oscar and Morris sneered at Jack as he turned away. Jazz picked up another rock, but Cracker grabbed her arm before she could throw it. "Why don't ya ask Mister Pulitzer?"

"Dey can't do dis to me, Jack."

"Dey can do whatever dey want, it's their stinkin' paper," Race puffed furiously on his unlit cigar.

"It ain't fair. We got no rights at all."

"C'mon. It's a rigged deck. Dey got all da marbles, ok."

"Jack, we got no choice. So let's get our lousy papes while dey still got some, eh," Mush started up the steps to the window but Jack pushed him back. He came and put his arm back on my shoulder.

"No! Nobody's goin' anywhere! Dey can't get away wit dis."

I was suddenly inspired, "He's right! We can't let them do this to us. We've gotta fight." Jazz and Cracker looked at me like I was nuts. Mush stepped away from me.

"What can we do Lida? Dey control da papes," he looked down and kicked his feet in the dust, "I mean, it's only a dime. It can't be as bad as we all think." He glanced at Blink.

Blink shook his head, "How we gonna fight, Rosie?"

"I don't know. I just know we have to."

Race paced for a few seconds and stopped in front of me, "Look, Sweetheart, I don't know how it works wherever you're from, but around here, da big shots run da papes. An' if Pulitzer an' Hearst want another ten cents, dey're gonna get it. It's only a dime anyways."

"But it's ten whole cents! If that dime is so important to them, the millionaires, what does it mean to you? You guys depend on the money you make selling papers. It keeps your families fed and gets you off the streets. Don't tell me it's just a dime- if the rich guys need it, so do you."

"Smart broad," Race smiled and turned to Jack, "So what we gonna do?"

"Clear out. Clear out. Give him some room. Give him some room. Let him think!"

We all stared at Jack as Blink handed him a cigarette. He took a few puffs, enjoying the attention. 'Jack, ya done thinkin' yet?"

"Hey! Hey! Hey! 'World' employees only on dis side o' da gate!" A general chorus of 'Oh shut up' and other such comments rose from our group. We settled down and Jack spoke.

"Listen, one thing for sure, if we don't sell papes, den nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through dose gates 'til dey put da price back where it was," he winked at me, "We want dat dime back."

"What do you mean," David finally spoke up, "like a strike?"

Jack looked up at me and mouthed, "Is it?" I nodded and he turned to David, "Yeah, like a strike."

"What? Are you outta your mind?"

Cracker wheeled on Race, "We can do it!"

"Jack, I was just joking. We can't go on strike, we don't have a union."

"If we go on strike, then we are a union, right?"

"No, we're just a bunch of angry kids with no money. Maybe if we got every newsie in New York, but-"

"But we can organize and make a union," Cracker was on a roll, "We'll get all the boroughs together and strike!"

"Yeah, well, we organize. Crutchy, you take up a collection."

"Swell," Crutchy whipped off his hat, "C'mon guys, we're a union." I put all the change I had with me in. Crutchy grinned, "Thanks, Lida."

"We'll get all da newsies in New York together."

David looked at me and hissed, "What did you do that for?" He faced the newsboys again, "Jack, this isn't a joke. Jack, you saw what happened to those trolley workers."

"Dat's another good idea. Any newsie don't join wit us, den we bust their heads like da trolley workers." David whined about rushing into things and Jack reminded us all of the powerful men we were going up against. Then he said, "Are we just gonna take what dey give us, or are we gonna strike?"

"STRIKE!" But that wasn't Les' war cry, that "strike" belonged to Jazz. David shot her a look that would strike fear into the heart of Darth Vader.

"Keep talkin', Jack. Tell us what ta do."

"You tell us what ta do, Dave, Lida."

"Pulitzer and Hearst have to respect our rights."

"All right. Hey listen, Pulitzer an' Hearst hafta respect da rights o' da workin' boys o' New York," the newsies cheered, "Dat's right! Well dat worked pretty good." He turned to me, "So what else?"

I sighed, "Tell 'em that they can't treat us like we don't exist."

"Pulitzer an' Hearst, dey think we're nothin'. Are we nothin'?"

"NO!"

"If we stick together like the trolley workers then they can't break us up."

"Pulitzer an' Hearst, dey think dey got us. Do dey got us?"

"NO!"

I hollered up at Jack, "We're a union now, the Newsboy's Union. We have to start acting like a union."

"Even though we ain't got hats or badges, we're a union just by sayin' so. And The World will know!"

"What's to stop someone else from sellin' our papes?"

"We'll talk wit 'em"

"Some of 'em don't hear so good."

"Well, then we'll soak 'em!"

"No! We can't beat up kids in the street, it'll give us a bad name!"

"Can't get any worse."

"What's it gonna take ta stop da wagons? Are we ready?"

"YEAH!"

"What's it gonna take ta stop da scabbers? Can we do it?"

"YEAH!"

"We'll do what we gotta do until we break da will o' mighty Bill an' Joe."

"And The World will know. And The Journal too. Mister Hearst an' Pulitzer, have we got news for you! Now the world will hear what we got ta say. We been hawkin' headlines, but we're makin' 'em today. And our ranks will grow."

"An' we'll kick their rear!"

"And the world will know dat we been here."

"When da circulation bell starts ringin', will we hear it?"

"NO!"

"What if da Delanceys come out swingin'? Will we hear it?"

"NO! When ya got a hundred voices singin', who can hear a lousy whistle blow? And The World will know that this ain't no game, that we got a ton o' rotten fruit and perfect aim. So they gave their word, but it ain't worth beans. Now they're gonna see what "stop da presses" really means. And the day has come, and the time is now, and the fear is gone."

"And our name is mud."

"And the strike is on."

"And I can't stand blood!"

"And the world will know..."

"Pulitzer may own The World but he don't own us!"

"Pulitzer may own The World but he don't own us!"

"Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won't whip us!"

"Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won't whip us!"

"And the world will know and the world will learn. And the world will wonder how we made the tables turn. And the world will see that we had to choose, that the things we do today will be tomorrow's news. And the old will fall, and the young stand tall. And the time is now, and the winds will blow, and our ranks will grow, and grow, and so the world will feel the fire and finally know!"

We all cheered as Jack wrote "strike" across the headline board, and began recruiting ambassadors. Messengers to all the boroughs and neighborhoods were dispatched, and Jack was left with Brooklyn. "Uh, so what about Brooklyn? Who wants Brooklyn? C'mon, Spot Conlon's territory."

I raised my hand, "We'll take Brooklyn."

"Ok. Anybody else? C'mon, ya gonna let a bunch a goils do 'stead o' you? What's da matter, ya scared o' Brooklyn? Y'all are gonna let goils show ya up?"

"Hey we ain't scared o' Brooklyn," Boots tried to look tough, "Spot Conlon makes us a little nervous."

"Well, he don't make me nervous. So you an' me, Boots, we'll go ta Brooklyn wit da goils. An' Dave can keep us company. Right, Dave?" David made Jack take our demands to Pulitzer and Denton came over and introduced himself. After a brief discussion of David and Goliath, we went to Tibby's where Denton treated us to lunch. Jazz decided to stay in Newspaper Row with Itey, and the rest of us were off to Brooklyn.

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"Well if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick." _Wow, Spot is mighty good looking in person._

"So ya moved up in da world, Spot. Got a river view an' evr'ything."

"An' who are these pretty little skirts ya got wit ya," Spot jumped down onto the dock and looked us over, "goin' inta ya own business?"

_He did NOT just call us whores! _I stepped forward, ready to give him the beating of his life, but Jack put his arm out and stopped me. "Nope, just some friends o' mine," he smiled good-naturedly, "Dis is Lida Rose an' Crackah."

Spot smirked and spit into his hand. Jack followed suit and they shook. "Hey, Boots, how's it rollin'?"

"Hey, I got a couple o' real good shooters here."

"Yeah," Spot took the green marble from Boots' outstretched hand and held it up into the sunlight, "So, uh, Jacky boy, I been hearin' things from little boids," he aimed his slingshot, "Things from Harlem, Queens," he shot, "all over. They're chirpin' in my ear. 'Jacky boy's newsies is playin' like they'se goin on strike.'"

"Yeah, well, we are."

"We're not playin'. We are goin' on strike."

"Oh yeah," Spot got up in David's face, "Yeah? What is dis, Jacky boy, some kinda walkin' mouth?"

"Yeah, it's a mouth. A mouth wit a brain, an' if you got half o' one you'll listen ta what he's got ta say. Go on, tell 'im," Jack nudged David. He just stood there like an idiot, jaw dropped, staring at Spot. _Please, he's not that intimidating._

"David," Cracker hissed, "don't just stand there. Tell him." He didn't move. She pushed him out of the way, "Well we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So we've been talking to other newsies all around the city."

"Yeah, so they told me," he crossed his arms and leaned back against the pole behind him. A tall, lanky, very handsome newsie, who'd been watching from behind the pole, stepped closer. Spot continued, "But what did dey tell you?"

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon does, that you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere."

I jumped onto the Spot bandwagon, "And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they'll join, and we'll be unstoppable."

"So ya gotta join us," David finally recovered, "Because, well, ya gotta." Jack grinned. He was glad he brought us girls along.

"Well you're right, Jack, brains. All of 'em. But I got brains too, an' more than just half o' one," he turned towards me and Cracker and pulled out his cane, "How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya wit a club?" He faced Jack again, "How do I know you got what it takes ta win?"

"'Cause I'm tellin' ya Spot."

"Dat ain't good enough, Jacky boy. Ya gotta show me."

By this point in time, I had already decided that Spot Conlon was a prick. As he stared us down, I charged him, "Oh, well show you, but will you be there to see it? How do we know you and your boys won't bail on us?"

He chuckled and backed away from me, "You must not be from around here, or you'd o' knowed not ta say dat ta me," he glanced over at Jack, "Where's dis broad from?"

"Someplace in Pennsylvania," Jack answered casually,. "Dese two an' another goil dat came wit 'em, Jazz."

"So you goils is from Pennsylvania, huh? Where at?"

"Central," I answered, "I grew up on a farm. Jazz and Cracker's fathers work in an iron mill." _Where the hell'd that come from?_

"Hayseed, huh? Shoulda guessed," he looked me over again, "you look pretty tough for a goil."

Cracker scoffed, "Wouldn't you like to know."

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Jazz and the guys were all waiting for us back at the Horace Greeley statue. Actually, they were shooting dice with Race, but they were all there.

"Jack, so, uh, where's Spot, huh?"

"Oh, he was concerned about us bein' serious. Can you imagine dat?"

"Well, ya know, Jack, maybe we should ease off a little, ya know?"

"Wit out Spot an' da others, there's not enough of us, Jack."

Maybe we're movin' too soon. Maybe we ain't ready, ya know?"

"I definitely think we should forget about it for a little while."

"Oh, do you?"

"Yeah, I mean, wit out Brooklyn ya know..."

"Hey, who we kiddin' here? Spot was right. Is it just as game ta you guys?"

The newsies insisted that they were serious about the strike, and Jack seemed reassured. I suddenly got the feeling that something needed to happen. For a moment I stood in agony, knowing that I had to do something, but not having the slightest clue what that something was. Then I did it.

"Open the gates and seize the day…" I was singing.

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Well, I sure hope you liked it! I'll try to get back on track with this and keep more chapters coming, but as I said, senior year's a bitch.

Please R&R, reviews are like watching Newsies with your squeeze! But no flames, they're like having the DVD player crap out on you and skip randomly...


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